


with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room

by tetsaturn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Attempt at Humor, First Kiss, First Meetings, Getting Together, I honestly dont know what this is, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, also suprise surprise kuroo is the future ceo of the company, but also very soft for kuroo, kenma is grumpy, they meet at a company party and things go downhill from there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsaturn/pseuds/tetsaturn
Summary: When Kenma got invited to the Kuroo Company's anniversary party, he had a clear and efficient plan: get in, greet your co-workers, smile a couple of times, steal dessert and get out.Really, free dessert was all Kenma wanted.or: Kenma really doesn't want to be there, a particular someone changes his mind, and as time goes by a lot of things change - but not the important ones.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 20
Kudos: 148





	with the exception of you, i dislike everyone in the room

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a quick fun thing and it spiraled. oh, did it spiral.
> 
> disclaimer: they smoke weed at some point so if thats triggering for you please click off !!!!
> 
> enjoy
> 
> i guess

When Kenma got invited to the Kuroo Company's anniversary party, he had a clear and efficient plan: get in, greet your co-workers, smile a couple of times, steal dessert and get out. 

Really, free dessert was all Kenma wanted. He was a man of simple principles.

When he actually entered the Kuroo Company's anniversary party, what he got instead was this: a thirty minutes speech by the CEO about how he was grateful for this company and how many plans he had for his soon-to-be-CEO son and how "No, Satou-san, you're not getting a bigger paycheck just because you brought meat pie,", an unnecessary long applause, a twenty minute appetizer, an hour long terrible group dances session and still. no. dessert.

Kenma thought about suing the company for employee mistreatment.

So here he was, sitting on one of the armchairs far, far away from the dance floor, ignoring the mess of people around him and scrolling through his phone to make himself seem like he was busy. (He wasn't; actually, he was bored out of his mind, and just wanted to go home and play games and eat dessert).

He considered texting Hinata to at least complain about the situation (because complaining is an excellent way of spending time, thank you very much), but he knew Hinata would've replied with something useless like "Go dance! Meet people! Eat Satou-san's meat pie!" and Kenma grimaced at the only thought. He honestly needed more friends - or he could have no friends at all. Just him, his blanket, his video games and his _goddamn_ dessert. How ideal.

But Kenma realized he couldn't just erase Hinata's existence, nor he could go home to his video games and to his dessert because 1. this was a company party and him, as an employee, was supposed to be there and 2. he didn't have any dessert at home, so he refused to just go home defeated and dessert-less. The dessert was the reason he came in the first place, and he was determined to get it; even if the prospect of waiting for God knows how long made him frown even further. Kenma figured he must've looked unpleasant and unfriendly hunched on that armchair, all short limbs and bony knees, tapping on his phone like it did him wrong and eventually looking up through his long, badly dyed hair only to scowl at his surroundings. Ah, whatever.

So, Kenma honestly couldn't figure out why anyone, _anyone_ would find him approachable. He was the least approachable person in that room by far - and he was content with that, satisfied even: the not-looking-approachable art was something he was perfect at. Except, someone apparently _did_ find him approachable. And that someone seemed to think sitting on the armchair by Kenma's side would’ve been a good idea.

Kenma tried his best to ignore the person on his right. He still hadn't looked at them, and he wasn't intentioned on doing so; his perfectly crafted plan didn't involve any social interaction that went beyond formal greeting. But fate had other plans for him, because the person - male, Kenma registered by his voice - spoke to him.

"This meat pie tastes like ass."

Oh.

Kenma turned his head towards the man on his right, and looked at him. He thought about getting away with not responding, but the man was glaring at Kenma, so the statement was obviously directed towards him. The man had a mess of black hair on his head, and he was chewing on some meat pie like it hurt to do so.

"I bet it does," carefully replied Kenma.

"You didn't have any?" His interlocutor was young, perhaps around Kenma's age, and handsome. Tall. Confident, obviously. Kenma grimaced, his brain hastily working its gears to figure out why a guy like that would ever talk to Kenma, who currently looked like- _this_.

"I'm waiting for dessert."

"Oh," the man's voice sounded raspy. Deep. "Well, you're in for a long wait."

Kenma already knew that, thank you very much. He scowled, and looked towards the dance floor - which honestly looked like the gates to hell. "Figured so."

The man by his side snickered, and Kenma tried not to look startled. He had a very ugly laugh - high-pitched and annoying. But Kenma guessed it was amusing, or something.

"You look like you want to set this place on fire," the man said through ugly giggles.

"No, I don't. I just want dessert."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

(Did Kenma just bicker with a stranger? Apparently, yes. He refused to let that information sink in).

The man let Kenma have the last word, and just stayed quiet for a few seconds, chewing on the meat pie despite early saying it tasted like ass. Kenma found that amusing too, and got startled by his own thought because _what the fuck, Kenma_.

They silently stared at Kenma's co-workers ungraciously dancing to ugly music, and in front of them a middle-aged lady tripped on her heels and fell on the floor. They stared some more.

"Hey," the man spoke up again. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Please."

✎

"You brought _weed_ to a _company party_?"

Kenma incredulously stared at the man seated on the balcony floor across from him pull out exactly two joints and a lighter from his pockets with a pleased grin on his face, like he had been waiting for this moment all night. Kenma couldn't believe his life, really. He came to this awful party for dessert and dessert only, but here he was, on the building's balcony floor, staring at a stranger who just pulled out weed out of his pockets like it was nothing. What the fuck.

"Yes?"

"What the fuck," Kenma voiced his thought.

"Why, is that strange?" The man looked genuinely confused at Kenma's confusion. Kenma's head hurt.

"Whatever, just," Kenma brought his hands up to massage his temples once, twice, "whatever works for you."

The man shrugged and lighted a joint. He inhaled with his eyes closed and let out the smoke after a few seconds. He was gripping the joint between his thumb and index finger, and his hands looked long, veiny- overall _pretty_. The man had pretty hands. Alright. 

He then took the second joint and passed it to Kenma, who stared at it for some time. Then some more time. Across from him, the man raised an eyebrow, waiting for Kenma to make a decision. Kenma decided this: this party was already fucked up as it was, he still hadn't gotten his dessert and he likely wouldn't have to see this man ever again. He took the joint.

The man's eyes - sharp, cat-like, barely visible under the mess of black hair - glimmered in delight as he moved closer to light the joint now hanging between Kenma's lips, as if Kenma just confirmed something for him, as if to say _I knew it_.

Smoke flooded his lungs and vision, and he stared up at the starless night sky; they spent some minutes in comfortable silence, smoking and just soaking in it all, far from the unpleasant mess of the party inside. It was nice. Kenma didn't feel like escaping from the stranger's company, so it was oddly nice. As he started to feel the pleasant buzz of the joint's effects under his skin and inside his bones, he thought that maybe he wasn't craving dessert that much. That maybe he could go home dessert-less, but not defeated.

"Hey," Kenma greeted this time, head up in a thoughtful manner, "Did you mean to smoke both joints by yourself?"

"No."

Kenma was startled by the confession, because he meant his question to be teasing, and not to be taken seriously. He glanced at the stranger, and asked, "What? Was it for someone else?"

"Mmh, yeah, but I didn't know who," the man grinned at him sheepishly, and blew out some more smoke, "I just hoped I'd find someone who'd hate this party as much as me, I guess."

"Oh."

"And," the stranger added, "I guess I found them."

The teasing grin made Kenma pout. "I don't hate this party."

"You obviously do."

"I don't."

"You looked like you would've bitten anyone in your close proximity."

Kenma looked away from the man's teasing grin, and felt himself blush. "Shut up. I don't hate it."

"Then why did you follow me here?"

"Because dessert hasn't come yet."

"And?"

"And," Kenma should've been annoyed at the man's teasing manner, and he did act annoyed - when really, he wasn't annoyed at the man, he was annoyed at _himself_ for indulging the stranger's teasing and for the warmth in his cheeks, "I had nothing better to do."

"You could've eaten some meat pie."

"Shut up."

The man giggled, amused by Kenma's aggressive replies, and Kenma pushed the thought that this man's awful laugh was cute out of his head. No place for that there. Nope.

"Do you like this job?" the man asked; surprising Kenma once again with another random question.

"Not really. I just applied to pay my rent," then he added, as a second thought, "Do you?"

"Mmh, not really," the stranger grinned bitterly, "I'd like to do something else."

"Like what?"

"Teaching," the man replied without missing a beat, "Coaching. I want to help people."

"Oh, that's nice." And Kenma meant it.

"What about you?"

Kenma wondered when this conversation turned to sharing their personal goals, but he was already in deep with the oddness of tonight (he was literally smoking weed in his workplace with a stranger, for fuck's sake); he might as well indulge the man. 

"Game development."

"As in, video games?"

"Yeah."

"That's- that's very nice," he replied, and his voice sounded sincere, like he meant it too. "Unique."

"Mmh." Kenma took another drag. The dizziness felt good.

Then the stranger said, "You don't look like you're meant for this place, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"This place is- it's boring. Old. You're not," his voice sounded flustered, like he didn't expect Kenma to want an explanation, "neither of those things, I mean."

"Oh." Kenma quietly looked at his interlocutor, at his profile, at the way his hair hid half of his face, at the way he brought the joint to his lips, at the way his spine curved with his hands flat on the floor behind him to support himself and his legs crossed in front of him; at the way he looked like he didn't have a care in the world, but like he had too many at the same time.

Then Kenma said, "You don't look like you're meant for this place, either."

The man smiled at him crookedly, genuinely, _bitterly_. Kenma felt his stomach drop. He ignored it.

Despite the quietness outside, the music and the shouts and the noise from the party could still be heard. Kenma imagined middle-aged ladies and men dancing, hot and sweaty and gross, and his body filled with dread at the thought; his co-workers seemed to have been going at it for so long, he was honestly worried for their health. That couldn't be good for them.

As if voicing his thoughts, the stranger looked back towards the balcony's see-through doors, and chuckled. "Damn," he said. "Suzuki-san is for sure unleashing some tension."

Kenma frowned. "Do you think she'll faint?"

"That's cruel."

"I'm being serious."

"She's just an energetic lady."

"I hope so."

"Hey," the man said, without missing a beat; then he was standing up, and Kenma looked up at him in confusion. He was tall. "Wanna dance?"

The stranger had tossed his nearly finished joint off the balcony, and was now reaching a hand towards Kenma, expecting and inviting.

(Kenma still couldn't believe his life).

"What."

"C'mon."

"Why would I dance?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

Kenma stared at him. The man stared some more. The faint music in the background still riverbed loud and clear into Kenma's ears, and Kenma seriously considered the offer - and surprised himself by doing so, because why would he even consider it? It was stupid. Stupid, like coming on a lonely balcony with some stranger; stupid, like accepting some stranger's weed; stupid, like sharing his future goals with said stranger; stupid, like-

Oh, whatever.

Kenma reached his right hand forward, gripping the man's offered hand and standing up. The stranger's hands were warm, and it felt good on Kenma's cold palms. He was looking at Kenma with a pleased grin, like Kenma just confirmed another thing for him, and Kenma was trying to look anywhere but this man's eyes - because he surprised himself by actually standing up, and the surprise made him feel self-conscious, and embarrassed, and all that jazz (a road he's taken before, but a road he was taking more than he would've liked to that night. Whatever).

The man guided him towards the middle of the balcony, as if creating a dance floor for the both of them, and leaned closer in Kenma's space. Kenma felt dizzy. Then, he left Kenma's hands and gently tapped his fingers on Kenma's sides, asking, "Is it okay if I touch you here?" Kenma nodded. The stranger placed his hands - large, warm, gentle - on Kenma's hips. By reflect, Kenma brought his arms up to the stranger's shoulders, and actively refused to acknowledge their proximity. He stared at the stranger's lean neck - because he couldn't stand eye contact right then - and breathed in, breathed out. Alright. This was happening.

Kenma felt dizzy.

The music was some shitty EDM mix, meant for wild jumping around and shouting, but the stranger was leading Kenma's movements in a slow dance. Kenma felt the man's warm breath on his forehead and his earthly smell in his nostrils. When he mustered up the courage, he looked up - why was he so tall, goddamnit - only to find the stranger looking down at him already. Smiling.

"Hi," the stranger said.

"Hi," Kenma replied.

"You're short."

Kenma used the hands on the man's shoulders to flick his nape.

"Ow," the stranger complained, but he was smiling. There was a pause, then, "It's cute."

Kenma felt his cheeks flare up, and he instantly brought his eyes back down to the man's neck. Damn it. Fuck this party, fuck this unfairly attractive stranger, fuck his cute random statements. Fuck all of this. He should've settled with the awful meat pie, and gone home while he still had the chance. 

Except that Kenma heating up like a pepper just proved the man's point further, because Kenma heard a chuckle; but luckily the man said nothing. Thank God.

And as Kenma began second-guessing all his life choices, what happened was this: the balcony see-through doors suddenly opened, and Kenma instantly jumped far away from the stranger; a third person entered Kenma's peripheral vision, and he whipped his head towards the voice - which he recognised as the CEO's young secretary, Akaashi Keiji - saying in a monotonous tone, "Kuroo-san, your father wants you back to the party."

Kenma looked at the stranger. The stranger looked at him. The gears in Kenma's brain worked hastily, trying to grasp onto something Kenma was obviously missing. 

The stranger looked apologetic. "Sorry, business calls," he said. 

Kenma stared at the two men leaving the balcony to go back inside.

When the connection clicked, Kuroo Tetsurou was already gone.

✎

"You're shitting me," Hinata said for the fourth time in a row. Kenma shook his head - for the fourth time in a row.

"You're saying," Hinata spoke slowly, his eyes wide and his small body thrumming with excitement, "that the soon-to-be-CEO of the company you work for brought you on the balcony in the middle of a company party, offered you weed and danced with you?"

Kenma grimaced. A shiver of embarrassment shook his limbs. He dropped his head on the kitchen table, then banged his head once, twice.

"Dude, woah," Hinata said, hopping on the counter. His legs swung loosely. "That's like- _woah_!" he exclaimed at last, snapping his opened arms up for good measure. Kenma often questioned his roommate's ability of expressing his thoughts.

"Hinata. I'm gonna get fired."

"No, you're not?" Hinata looked confused, like Kenma was missing a very obvious point. "He's the _CEO's son_ , he won't get you fired."

"You can't know that." Kenma brought his head up from the table just enough to send a deadpan stare to his friend.

"Yes, I know that. Because," Hinata took a deep breath for dramatic purposes, and declared, "this is the start of a beautiful romance! This is some Romeo and Juliet shit, dude!"

Kenma dropped his head once again, and banged it on the table a third time - for good measure.

✎

Return to the office was- an experience, to say the least.

First of all, Hinata suddenly seemed to be very interested in his work day; in fact, so interested that Kenma's phone blew up with texts from his roommate, asking all kinds of discreet and non-obvious questions like "Did you see the CEO's son again?" or "Will you send me a picture if you do see him?" or "Kenma? Why aren't you replying? Did the CEO fire you?" (After one concerned look at his lockscreen from the lady working in the cabin next to him when she came to collect some papers from his desk, Kenma suppressed the urge to throw his phone off the window and just turned it off instead.)

Second of all, the CEO's terrifyingly attractive secretary - Akaashi Keiji - who caught them during the party had been staring at him every time he had the chance. Like, straight-up analyzing his every move - and Kenma felt so uncomfortable and self-conscious that he tripped on his own feet a couple of times and spilled coffee on his pants (the man had a very intimidating stare, mind you). So yeah, that wasn't fun. At all.

Kenma would've done just fine with those two things only. He still worked quietly at his desk, he still got to drink some coffee despite spilling most of it on his pants, and nobody came to fire him; he would've been just fine with the knowledge that yes, he did something very not work hectic and very inappropriate, and that yes, the only thought of Kuroo Tetsurou being in that same building was bothering him and mildly distracting him from his work, but nothing was hugely unsettled if not Kenma's psych (something Kenma was used to, so it was fine).

But fate never went Kenma's way. And Kenma himself should've known that.

He was scribbling down some phone number on a note, squinting at his ridiculously tiny writing - why did he write so small, goddamnit - and rubbing his eyes with the inside of his wrists, finally blinking up a few times and having his vision filled with- Kuroo Tetsurou. A very tall, very handsome, very close Kuroo Tetsurou.

Kenma jumped on his chair. The chair made a loud, annoying squeaky sound. Suddenly, everyone in the room snapped their heads up. (Kenma had the irrational urge to hide under his desk).

Kuroo Tetsurou said, "Hi," and he was wearing a white button up shirt with the first three buttons unbuttoned to show a lean, smooth chest and the corners of his lips were pulled up in a shy grin and the shirt was very tight on his biceps and what the fuck Kenma-

"Hello," he said.

"How is your, uh- how is your day going?"

Kenma frowned. "Fine."

Kuroo Tetsurou brought his arm up to scratch the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "I'm sorry about the, uh, you know-"

Everyone in the room was very obviously listening to the odd conversation. The lady in the cabin next to Kenma's one actually leaned her head so far back on her chair, Kenma was concerned for her neck.

"Kuroo-san," Kenma interrupted him, half whispering, half screaming, "there's no need to." _Please shut the fuck up_.

"Alright, but-"

"I'm working."

"Kozume-san-"

"Oh, you know my name?"

"Of course I do, I'm the CEO's son-"

"Why are you here then-"

"To apologize to you, I already said that, geez-"

"Stop talking so _loud_ -"

"Alright, alright," came a third voice towards them. Kenma snapped himself out of the aggressively whispered argument, and just then realized the show they must've given to the entire office. He felt sick.

Akaashi Keiji stepped up between Kuroo Tetsurou and Kenma's desk, looking a mix of very annoyed and very resigned, and grabbed Kuroo's left ear, tugging on it. "Ow, ow, ow! Akaashi, what the h-"

"You just behaved like a 6 year-old, so you deserve to be treated like one," the secretary stated in a hard voice. Kenma gained at least 10+ points of respect for the man.

Kuroo pouted (just proving the secretary's point further), and looked back at Kenma with a kicked-puppy face. "I only came to apologize."

"You didn't need to."

"Yeah, well-"

"Kozume-san accepts your apology," said Akaashi in a voice that left no space for argument, staring at Kenma with a very piercing glare. Kenma gulped. "Right?"

"Yes, yes," he hurried. "Of course."

The secretary seemed satisfied with that, so he tugged on Kuroo's ear further and literally dragged him by the ear across the office, their exit accompanied by a very pained "See you, Kozume-san!" from Kuroo and a few more "Ow, ow, ow!". Kenma stared at the two men leaving. The office stared at them too, then stared at Kenma.

Kenma closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and dropped his head on the desk. He breathed in, breathed out.

His forehead hurt from the impact.

Kenma banged it harder. 

✎

It began like this:

Kenma didn't see Kuroo another time after that, but he did see a note attached to his desk's laptop with the (ugly) drawing of a cat on it. He didn't make much of it the first time, when he just looked at it oddly, shrugged and tossed it into the bin, but he guessed that exact indifference from Kenma's part was the reason the cat notes _evolved_. And by evolved, Kenma meant they doubled in size and quantity - literally filling the entirety of his laptop. And when Kenma still took his time to just toss them in the bin as a response, not once looking up from his workplace, they began filling the entirety of his _desk_.

After about a week of this progression, Kenma thought they finally got to an end; until they didn't. Until, one day, he found eight notes attached together to form a very big and very obnoxious _-KUROO_ with the usual cat notes surrounding the mosaic. 

And Kenma decided he had enough.

He looked up from his workplace. His left eye was twitching, his lips were pulled down in what he knew was a very ugly scowl. He saw exactly what he imagined he'd see: Kuroo's head peaking out the CEO's office, looking right at him with wide eyes. Kenma saw terror and regret in them.

Kenma watched as Kuroo's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in what seemed a painful gulp; then, Kuroo's head disappeared behind the now closed door.

Kenma grinned in pleasure.

✎

"Okay, look-"

"You filled my desk with notes for a whole week-"

"Cat notes! I drew cats!"

"-and just watched me as I patiently threw them away every time, for _a whole week_ -"

"Alright, I'm sorry, but look-"

"-and now you're saying this whole thing was just a way for you to say I look like a cat?" Kenma paused, to let his question sink in. "Seriously?"

Kuroo, in front of him, was avoiding his eyes; his left arm was raised to scratch the back of his head in an embarrassed gesture.

"I thought- I thought that'd be nice."

Kenma blinked.

"Like- a compliment," Kuroo explained, as if that made any more sense.

"How was I supposed to know," Kenma asked, very slowly, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I drew cats."

Kenma decided right then that continuing the argument would've been pointless.

He leaned on the wall with a sigh, and now he was beside Kuroo rather than in front of him. The evening sun of that annoyingly warm Friday was slowly setting, and Kenma's day was nearing its end; he just recently had ended his shift at work, and just as he was about to walk to his apartment as quickly as possible with the comforting thought of his bed filling his mind, Kuroo caught him just outside the building, and Kenma tried not to look annoyed as the man sprung out his excuses for the cat notes. The man just had the worst timing.

And now that Kenma figured out - kind of - what the hell the odd drawings were for, his thoughts became a mix of _What the fuck_ and _Kenma stop thinking it was lowkey cute of him_ and _I want to sleep so bad_.

What Kenma asked instead was, "Why did I end up stuck with _you_ of all people?" 

Kenma heard the grin in Kuroo's voice as he replied, "Oh, just admit you like me."

Kenma made his _ick_ face. "I don't."

"You do."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Liar," the man replied at last, breaking the chain. Then, he said, "Hey," and Kenma frowned because he knew from experience Kuroo's _heys_ meant no good.

"What."

"Wanna go out tonight? My treat."

Kenma turned his face towards him. Kuroo was already looking at him, a lazy grin playing on his lips - but Kenma thought it secretly looked nervous.

"To do what?"

"Eat."

"Eat what?"

"Pie."

Kenma considered this. Very seriously, at that.

Bed or pie, bed or pie, bed or pie, bed or-

"Alright."

Pie it was.

It turned out to be a very wise choice, because the pie was good and warm and soft and the place they got it at even put vanilla ice cream on it. Kenma dug in as soon as the waiter arrived with his plate, and he couldn't help the pleased hum he let out at the first bite - it was like all things good in this world, but in food form. After a few moments of quiet and eager eating, Kenma looked up while still chewing; Kuroo was seated in front of him with his elbow on the table and his chin perched up on his hand. His lips were stretched in an amused grin as he stared at Kenma. Kenma frowned.

"What."

"Your eyes are literally sparkling."

"No they're not."

"Yes they are. Do you like pie that much?"

Kenma gulped down his last bite, and immediately went for another one. "I like it a fair amount."

"Mmh." The amused staring didn't end. Kenma decided to ignore it and just continue eating.

After Kuroo's plate arrived and they were both finished and satisfied, Kuroo said this: "You have some ice cream on your nose".

Kenma blinked at Kuroo's serious voice and wiped the tip of his nose. "Now?"

"No, it's more on the left."

He wiped some more. "Now?"

Kuroo shook his head, then he did this: he started learning over the table towards him. And Kenma, well. Kenma panicked.

Kuroo Tetsurou was very obviously an attractive guy, and as much as Kenma tried to suppress his useless physical reactions, there wasn't much a social anxious, non-heterosexual single man could do when another - gay? single? bisexual? engaged? Kenma honestly couldn't figure it out; not that he'd been thinking about it or anything - conventionally attractive man was leaning over a table to get some ice cream on Kenma's nose like they were suddenly catapulted into some kind of cliché romance movie and Kenma was the unfortunate main character in front of his first crush. So, Kenma couldn't help but do this: blush furiously, scrub his nose a couple more times and lean back on his seat as far as possible from Kuroo's hand. His timing must've been off, though, because Kuroo's hand reached his nose anyway, and Kuroo did this: he let his hand hover over it for a terrifying amount of seconds, then he _flicked_ the tip of Kenma's nose with his index finger. Kenma flinched. Kuroo leaned back in his seat and snickered at him, satisfied. Kenma blinked.

"Did you just- did you just _flick_ my nose?"

"Yes. I tricked you."

Kenma rubbed his nose. "What the fuck."

"Oh, you were blushing so hard," Kuroo said in-between ugly giggles, "did I make you flustered, Kozume-san?"

Goddamnit. Kenma brought his eyes down with a scowl on his face, and muttered: "You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Ah, you caught me there."

"And it's Kenma."

"Pardon?"

"Kenma. Just call me Kenma."

He brought his eyes up just to see a wide, genuine smile from the man. "Alright, Kenma."

Kenma's chest felt tight.

(He told himself it was because he was full from the pie).

When they exited the food place, the sun was already set and there was a gentle night breeze - not too warm, not too cold; just the right amount of pleasant. This only added to Kenma's quiet and satisfied giddiness. It felt nice.

Kuroo was walking alongside him, and his presence felt solid, comforting; Kenma felt like he could get used to him, eventually. Like he was slowly getting used to him already. And that should've been surprising, probably, because Kenma usually took a lot of time to get used to people (it took nearly 3 months for him to get used to Hinata living around him all the time, and he still got overwhelmed sometimes), but nothing about Kuroo surprised him anymore. The getting-used-to-Kuroo process felt comfortable, and natural, and quiet; and Kenma liked that about it. It felt like something Kenma was easing into, rather than something Kenma had been thrown into. Something that truly belonged to him.

"Hey," Kuroo spoke. "We should do this more often."

"Eat pie?"

"Yes, eat pie." Kenma looked up towards his left and saw Kuroo looking down at him with a grin. "If that's the price I gotta pay for you not to frown at me all the time, I'll gladly pay it."

"I do not frown at you all the time," Kenma said, frowning.

"You're frowning right now."

"It's my default face."

Kuroo giggled. Kenma suppressed the urge to smile himself and continued frowning to prove a point. 

Then, Kuroo said this: "You're lucky it's a nice face."

Kenma instantly looked down and brought his sleeves up to squeeze his warming cheeks in an embarrassed gesture. Damn it. "Shut up." Kuroo laughed some more. Kenma decided he did not, in fact, wanted to get used to Kuroo anymore because Kuroo was the worst.

And so he said, "You're the worst," - for good measure.

"You're cute."

"Stop saying that. I'm an adult."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Hah. Twenty-four. I'm more of an adult than _you_ are."

Kenma looked at him like he had grown a third eye. "What's your point."

"Nothing," Kuroo said in a cheerful manner, "I'm just allowed to say you're cute. You're basically a child."

"I'm literally not."

"Whatever, kiddo."

Kenma groaned. That only pleased Kuroo further. Kenma wanted to kick him.

(He did kick him. In the shins, because he couldn't reach higher.

It felt great).

After Kuroo stopped whining and complaining for the atrocious pain – so dramatic -, Kenma quietly informed him they were close to his house and that Kuroo didn't need to walk with him any further, but Kuroo said in an annoyingly suffering voice, "Don't worry for me, I'll bear the pain a little bit longer," so Kenma huffed and started walking quicker just to spite him.

When they arrived in front of Kenma's house, Kenma quietly announced "We're here," and they both stopped. Kenma brought his hands into his pockets and looked down, then thought about it and looked at Kuroo. Kuroo was already looking back. 

"So," Kuroo said.

"So," Kenma replied.

He wondered where this tension came from. He wondered why this whole night felt like a bad corny scene from some teenage romcom - this being the scene where the main character's love interest walked them home and they both lingered, waiting for the other to make a move or something. Ew.

But, following this train of thought, it meant that Kenma wasn’t supposed to be the one to make the first move - whatever that meant - because the main character always waited for their love interest to make a move, and Kenma was already in deep with this odd, annoying comparison, so he might as well behave like it.

Kenma waited. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait much longer because Kuroo brought his hand up to scratch his nape in a gesture Kenma knew meant he was about to say something embarrassing, and he, in fact, said: "I don't want to be too straightforward or scare you off, but, um," he paused, and took a deep breath, "I'd like to consider this a date. If that's alright with you."

Oh.

(Kenma wasn't that off with his odd romcom comparison, after all).

He looked up at Kuroo. He could basically feel Kuroo's tension numbing his own fingertips and making him slightly out of breath.

Kenma looked down.

"Okay."

Kuroo smiled, and Kenma didn't smile back - because he was too busy trying to hide his warming cheeks.

✎

“You’re saying,” Hinata started, and Kenma had serious déjà vu, “that you’re dating the soon-to-be-CEO of the company you work for?”

Oh.

Kenma blinked, suddenly realizing. “Well, if you put it like that.”

“Kenma, don’t tell me you _forgot_.”

“I didn’t,” Kenma lied. He actually did. He just couldn’t see Kuroo working as a boring CEO of a boring Company; so what if it slipped out of his mind from time to time? Sue him.

“It’s kind of illegal,” Hinata stated with an excitement Kenma didn’t want to inspect further.

“Yeah.” Kenma stared at Hinata. Hinata stared back.

Then, Hinata suddenly jumped down from the kitchen’s counter and loudly exclaimed with his arms wide open: “So _cool_!”

(Kenma’s left eye twitched.)

✎

Kenma fully blamed Hinata for the fact that the realization haunted him for the rest of the week. Every time Kuroo was with him, an annoying little voice in the back of Kenma’s head which sounded a lot like Hinata’s liked to remind him that _It’s kind of illegal!_ \- and Kenma couldn’t take it anymore, because, let’s be clear: he was _not_ one to follow morals but he also didn’t want to get involved in some mess or scandal or whatever, because that would’ve been very annoying. Especially considering that Akaashi Keiji, the actual CEO’s aka Kuroo’s father’s secretary, still had his eyes on him.

Also, the actual dating part was still something kind of difficult to realize for Kenma. Literally all they did was bicker and go out to eat pie and bicker some more, so it didn’t really feel like dating – not that Kenma would’ve known what dating was supposed to feel like. They still hadn’t held hands, still hadn’t kissed, still hadn’t looked at each other’s eyes like the other hung the moon or something; it felt like a friendship, but also not, because Kenma felt things with Kuroo that he didn’t feel at all with any other friend. His cheeks didn’t warm for Hinata, his hands didn’t tremble for Hinata, his chest didn’t feel tight when Hinata was around; but they did for Kuroo. Sometimes Kenma thought that with Kuroo it was _supposed_ to feel different than with any other person, because it had been different since the start: it began different – when did Kenma _ever_ leave a party with some stranger to smoke weed and dance -, it developed different, it felt different. Kuroo himself was different – in the way he had this confident aura but still looked embarrassed when asking Kenma out for pie, in the way he always stated whatever he was thinking about without a single thought, in the way he stood up to Kenma’s teasing and knew exactly what to say to shut him up and cause him to become a blushing mess, in the way he knew how ugly his laugh was but loudly laughed anyway because he simply didn’t care. In his kindness, in his honesty, in his being intense but gentle all the same, in the way he looked like he’d understood Kenma right away.

So – Kenma guessed that now he knew what dating was supposed to feel like. It felt nice.

They were on their usual evening stroll towards Kenma’s house – because Kuroo always insisted on walking him home -, when Kenma turned around and asked: “When are you turning CEO of the Company?”

After Kuroo tripped on his own feet – because “You surprised me there, geez, stop laughing,” – he replied: “In about a year.”

“Oh. What are we doing about,” Kenma pointed at himself, then at Kuroo, “ _this_?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Kenma cringed at himself for what he was about to say, “once you’ll become CEO, us- _dating_ will be kind of illegal. Since I’ll work for you.”

Kuroo blinked down at him; then, he seemed to have a sudden realization, because he grinned wickedly, said, “So you plan to still _date_ me in about a year?” and Kenma cursed himself for giving him teasing access on a silver plate.

“That’s not the point.”

“Just admit you like me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t know what we’ll do about it,” Kuroo suddenly replied, breaking the chain of teasing. “We’ll see as time goes on. Don’t stress about it. I know Akaashi can be intimidating sometimes, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Kenma made his _ick_ face and stepped on a tossed cigarette. “He doesn’t intimidate me.” _Intimidating is an understatement._

“Sure thing,” Kuroo replied with a grin on his face that told Kenma the exact opposite. Kenma just stomped his feet on the ground louder to show disapproval.

When they almost reached Kenma’s house, Kuroo asked: “You’re not planning to work for the Company forever anyway, are you?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck in there.”

“Mmh,” Kuroo sounded thoughtful. Kenma’s steps came to a halt in front of his house, and he looked up at Kuroo who was now in front of him. His face looked nice in contrast to the nearest lamppost, and his usual button-up shirt looked wrinkled but hugged his chest nicely. Then Kuroo said, “You don’t know how long you’ll be stuck with me either.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds. “That’s true,” Kenma replied. Kuroo’s words sounded like uncertainty, and fondness, and hopefulness. They sounded like wonder. They sounded like a concealed promise - and Kenma liked the sound of that.

(But, of course, Kuroo had to go and ruin it by stating in a very obnoxious voice: “Well, Kenma, if you wish to _date_ me for a very long time, you must give me a goodbye kiss! For good luck!”, and then had the audacity to close his eyes, pucker his lips and lean towards him.

Kenma landed his whole palm on Kuroo’s face and pushed him away).

✎

Kenma knew the goodbye kiss thing would’ve now been a pattern in Kuroo’s teasing when a lazy Thursday morning he found a dozen notes with some cats drawn in the act of obnoxiously puckering their lips; when asked about it, Kuroo said: “It’s to incite your inner cat,” and Kenma found that extremely lame, as he then replied. To add to that, Kuroo continued asking for a goodbye kiss every time they arrived at Kenma’s house after one of their usual strolls, and Kenma just made his _ick_ face while Kuroo snickered at him.

The thing was: Kenma couldn’t actually understand if Kuroo was serious about it or not, because he always brought it up in a teasing manner. The actual thought of kissing Kuroo made him all squirmy and flushed, so, by analysing said physical reactions, Kenma guessed he wouldn’t have minded kissing Kuroo – not really, not at all. His lips looked soft, and he smelled nice, and he knew his grip was gentle because of when they danced when they first met, and Kenma fancied himself some healthy kissing – especially if it involved Kuroo. But Kuroo asked about it obnoxiously, and teasingly puckered his lips at him, and giggled about it, and Kenma was confused.

One day, Kenma stared at the umpteenth kissing cat notes and decided to keep them on his desk – just because.

Another day, after they stopped at a grocery store to buy some ice cream mochi and went on one of their usual strolls, Kenma invited Kuroo inside his house – just because.

Kuroo looked surprised about it, but Kenma just stared at him and waited for a response because he felt brave that night and the thought of Kuroo just hanging outside his doorstep and then _leaving_ bothered him and made him uneasy. Also, he knew Hinata wouldn’t have been there for the night because he was at his boyfriend’s. And Kenma was supposed to have a boyfriend too, or something. So. 

“Wait, really?” Kuroo asked after blinking a total amount of four times, his mouth hanging wide open.

“You look funny,” was what Kenma said.

Kuroo snapped his mouth closed, and shook his head in an obvious attempt to collect himself. Kenma grinned at him, amused.

“Are you sure I can?”

“I mean, unless you have something better to do.”

“No!” replied Kuroo, way too loud and way too quick. Kenma quirked an eyebrow at him. The other man cleared his throat in an embarrassed gesture, and continued, “No. I, um, can totally come in with you. Yeah.”

(“Kenma. Stop making fun of me.” “I’m not.” “With your _eyes_. Stop it.”)

The visit was unplanned and unexpected, so it wasn’t Kenma’s fault if his house was currently a mess – mainly, he had Hinata to blame. But Kuroo seemed too starstruck about being inside Kenma’s house in the first place to notice the mess in the kitchen sink or the wrinkled pillows on the couch, so Kenma didn’t bother. It was cute.

Now Kenma was all cuddled up on the right side of the couch with his knees to his chest and his mouth full of mochi – honestly, he had been waiting for it all night – and Kuroo was beside him, looking like he was trying very hard to relax. Why was he so nervous, Kenma honestly couldn’t figure out. 

The TV was switched on some children cartoon. Kenma, on his part, was enjoying his cartoon and his mochi, thank you very much. But then, Kuroo had to go and reach for the TV remote, and Kenma instantly threw his unoccupied arm forward to snatch it off his hands, because _how dare him_.

“Kenma! Let go!”

“It’s _my_ remote!”

“I don’t wanna watch cartoons!”

“That sounds like your problem!”

Kenma, mochi in one hand, and the other pulling on one side of the remote, thought about biting Kuroo’s hands off; but then, Kuroo snatched it off Kenma’s weak grip completely and held the remote high above his own head, grinning down at Kenma who gaped at him. “You’re so short,” Kuroo stated. Kenma nudged the other man’s stomach with his foot. _Hard_. 

After Kuroo changed the channel to some boring old movie, Kenma still had his mochi but he didn’t have his cartoons; he also didn’t have the spirit to feel too bitter about it, though, because that little banter seemed to ease some of Kuroo’s tension away, and Kenma was glad about it, because he didn’t want to stay beside a wooden stick all night, especially when he was feeling so brave to even invite him inside his house in the first place. So, he powered through the boring old movie – not letting Kuroo get away with it without some complaints, though.

“What are you, a grandpa?” Kenma asked with his default scowl.

“I’m an _adult_ who likes watching things that can stimulate my intellect,” Kuroo replied. “Unlike some people.”

“Cartoons are very stimulating.”

“Yes, for 6-year olds.”

Kenma munched on his mochi disapprovingly, and Kuroo grinned at him, clearly amused. “See, you’re even behaving like one,” the other man continued.

“Better to be young and energetic than to be wrinkly and gross.”

“Rude!” Kuroo gasped, and it was Kenma’s turn to grin at him. “You do _not_ think I’m gross.”

“So gross.”

“I’m the most attractive person you know.”

“That’s Akaashi-san.”

“Kenma! Are you cheating on me with my own secretary?”

“I don’t think he’d ever let me near him,” Kenma thought about the man’s piercing glare, and grimaced.

“If you’re innocent, prove it!” Kenma reacted to Kuroo’s loud statement with a raised eyebrow and looked at him funny. Then, Kuroo leaned forward. “The requirement is,” he closed his eyes, puckered his lips and let out a final, dramatic, “a _kiss_ ”.

Kenma felt a familiar ache in his chest he knew was disappointed, and he adverted his gaze, letting out a small, “Stop it.” He couldn’t help but feel confused and disappointed at this stunt Kuroo was continuously pulling out, because what if he wasn’t serious about it? What if he thought about kissing Kenma as a joke? What if he simply didn’t see him that way? It was stupid. Kenma licked ice cream off his lips and kept his gaze down, his mood suddenly dropping. Damn him and his stupid feelings.

“Hey,” Kuroo’s voice suddenly dropped too, and he sounded anxious. Kenma felt guilty. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Did I annoy you?”

Kenma kept silent. The anxiety in Kuroo’s voice was obvious when he stated, “I annoyed you.”

“No, no, you didn’t. I,” Kenma paused. Damn it, damn it, damn it. “It’s stupid.”

“It can’t be as stupid as me, for sure.” Kenma decided to look up, and the furrow in Kuroo’s brow told him about embarrassment and worry and regret. He looked out of place, him and his wrinkled button-up shirt, him and his tensed position, him and his chapped lips, and Kenma didn’t like the look of that. He liked his Kuroo confident, and teasing, and grinning; none of which were happening right now. Suddenly, Kenma felt more frustrated about this than any of the things he was thinking about earlier, so he furrowed his brows, turned around and looked straight in the other’s eyes, trying to come up with something to say. “I,” he started. “I just can never figure out if you want to- kiss me as a joke, or if you, um, really want to. Or something,” he finished off, lamely.

Some of the tension seemed to leave Kuroo’s body, because he sighed, brought a hand up to his forehead and shook his head. “Oh, Kenma,” he let out a chuckle. Kenma waited for a clearer reaction with his knees cuddled up close to his chest because _what the hell was that supposed to mean_. Then, Kuroo leaned his back on the couch backrest, closed his eyes to regain composure and snapped them open after some seconds. “Kenma,” he repeated. He sounded determined this time, the sudden change in tone startling. “Would you mind coming here?”

Kenma stared at him from where his face was hidden behind his knees. Hesitatingly, he moved from his current position and crawled towards the other man, unsure about what to do. But Kuroo seemed to have a plan in mind, because he leaned his hands on Kenma’s hips and gestured towards his lap, letting Kenma know he wanted him to straddle him. Kenma ignored his heating cheeks and did so, instantly burying his face in Kuroo’s chest because that was much better than looking at his face. Kuroo’s body was warm, and solid, and his heartbeat was steady.

“You know,” Kuroo started. “When I first approached you at the party, it was exactly because you looked so unapproachable that I was curious about it. I asked myself _What’s this guy gonna do?_ and you looked like you were seconds from biting me,” he chuckled, “and I started doing this weird thing where I would treat you cautiously but also push you to see how you’d react. Not going to lie, you surprised me a couple of times, but I also expected all of it, if that makes sense? My exact goal was for you to surprise me.” Kenma felt a shiver on the exposed skin of his lower back. He nuzzled Kuroo’s chest further to let him know he was listening. “I feel like you need to be treated gently; but also not, because you don’t react if you’re not pushed. People that treat you as if you’re made of glass piss you off. Am I right?”

Kenma never thought about any of that, but he surprised himself when he nodded, because Kuroo _was_ right. He wondered how many more things Kuroo knew about Kenma that Kenma didn’t even know himself.

“I started joking about kissing you because I wondered what would’ve been your reaction - and because I was too much of a pussy to kiss you myself.”

“You tested me,” Kenma mumbled. He felt Kuroo’s fingers rub circles on his left hipbone.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“It was- confusing.”

“I’m sorry I made you confused,” Kuroo’s voice sounded genuinely regretful, and Kenma believed him. “Now, will you please look at me? So I can stare at your pretty face,” he added cheekily.

Kenma let a few seconds pass before lifting his head. Like this, his face was at the same height of Kuroo’s, and he realized how close they really were; he could count Kuroo’s eyelashes if he wanted to, and he noticed a little mole on his left cheekbone he never noticed before. “Hi,” Kuroo said. His breath lingered on Kenma’s chin.

“Hi,” Kenma replied.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Maybe,” and because he regained some of tonight’s braveness thanks to Kuroo’s earlier words, “Will you make it up to me?”

From this close, Kenma heard Kuroo’s weak gasp, and the realization that Kenma surprised him – again – made him feel squirmy and smug and warm. Kuroo began drawing circles on Kenma’s right hipbone too, and then on his lower back, shifting his hands up and down, and Kenma’s skin felt electric. He leaned forward. 

“I already bought you mochi,” Kuroo mumbled.

“Mmh. Then I guess that’s it.” They were so, so close now, but Kenma refused to close the distance himself. He wanted Kuroo to take action. He owed him that much.

“You didn’t let me eat any, though.”

“I might still taste like it.”

“Mmh. But what if I want the real thing?” Kuroo sounded smug, and Kenma realized he was challenging him, too. But one thing he didn’t know about Kenma was: Kenma got impatient very quickly. In fact, he already got so impatient that he hissed: “Just fucking kiss me,” and Kuroo did.

Kenma instantly hummed into the kiss, his arms surrounding the other’s neck and bringing him even closer. Kuroo’s lips were chapped; Kenma didn’t mind. It felt exactly like Kenma had imagined it would’ve felt like, maybe even better: Kuroo was gentle but teasing, as his teeth nipped Kenma’s lips from time to time, causing Kenma to sigh quietly; his body was warm, he smelled nice and his grip on Kenma’s hips wasn’t hard but not light either. It was the perfect contrast between calm and eager, pushing and releasing, quick and slow, and Kenma easily fell into Kuroo’s rhythm. His legs felt like butter. When Kenma opened up his mouth to nudge at Kuroo’s lips with his tongue, he felt Kuroo’s grip tighten; then Kuroo surrounded his whole torso with his arms, and their bodies were so close Kenma wondered how they were still able to breathe at all. He broke the kiss to regain some breath and let his damp mouth linger on Kuroo’s exposed neck, panting. Kuroo nuzzled his nose into Kenma’s hair. Kenma kissed his Adam’s apple.

“Fucking hell,” Kenma heard the vibrations of Kuroo’s rough voice on his lips, from where he was kissing his throat. The other man sounded so shaken up it made Kenma chuckle. “Fucking- wow.”

“So expressive.”

“Shut up.” And Kenma was glad to do that, opting to let his mouth trail on Kuroo’s neck and leaving a wet kiss on his collarbone. Kuroo always left the first buttons of his shirt open, and that made for easy access. When he started sucking the tender skin right between his shoulder and his jaw, Kuroo let out a breathless moan, and Kenma sucked harder, because Kuroo was feeling good, and he wanted to make him feel even better, he wanted to-

“If you don’t stop, there’ll be- there’ll be a problem, Kenma,” Kuroo interrupted, squeezing Kenma’s sides, and Kenma was suddenly shaken out of his haze. He lifted his head and blinked at him. Kuroo’s lips were shiny with saliva, and his neck was red and bruised. A problem, he said. Kenma looked down on Kuroo’s lap, then up again.

_Oh_.

“Oh,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Kuroo looked flustered. It was a good look on him.

“Oh.”

Kuroo squirmed under Kenma’s body in embarrassment, and sighed, sounding defeated. “Let’s just- cool off for now, kitten.”

“ _Kitten?_ ”

“You bit me like one. My neck is all bruised now because of _you_ , you menace. Now shut your pretty mouth.”

And Kenma, well; Kenma finally did – but just because he felt too dizzy to speak.

(Another thing that was unplanned and unexpected, like that whole night, was this:

Kenma woke up the morning after still draped all over Kuroo’s lap, the TV faintly playing in the background, and his right foot felt numb. Kuroo was still asleep under him and he looked very uncomfortable – but he had adjusted himself to Kenma’s body anyway.

When he lifted his head from Kuroo’s chest, blinking and yawning, what he saw was this:

Hinata, staring at the both of them with a pleased smile, munching on some cereal.

Hinata swallowed and opened his mouth. Kenma suddenly felt very awake. “Hinata, don’t-“

“ _Good morning!_ ”

Kuroo startled awake _so_ hard, it sent both him and Kenma on the floor.)

✎

Things changed after that – not everything, but some things did.

For example:

1- When teasing each other, Kuroo didn’t try so hard to shut Kenma up with words like he did before, but just went in for a kiss instead. Kenma called him lazy. Kuroo pointed out that it was effective, regardless.

2- PDA started happening. Lots of it. And Kenma surprised himself by realizing that yes, he always hated seeing it with other couples, but he didn’t mind it at all with Kuroo. That being, if PDA meant nose boops in the office while Kenma was working; hand holding while walking towards Kenma’s house; forehead kisses from Kuroo because _You’re so short I can’t even reach your cheek_ ; heavy making out on Kenma’s couch that always seemed to be caught by Hinata. Kenma thought that was hypocritical of him, because he always hated all of the above when it involved other people, but did he care? No. 

3- Kuroo started publicly introducing him as his boyfriend, like when they went out to eat burgers or pie or ice cream and he stated an unnecessary _Yes, that’s for my boyfriend_ to the poor waiter who honestly couldn’t care less about that information. Kenma always kicked his shins under the table, refusing to acknowledge how warm and fuzzy it actually made him feel.

Some things that didn’t change at all were:

1- Kuroo’s obnoxiously ugly laugh.

2- Akaashi Keiji and his pointed staring (actually, that one duplicated, if possible).

3- Kenma and Kuroo’s routine, and their job, and the way they understood each other, and the annoying notes all over Kenma’s desk; and their future plans, their goals. The last ones, they started talking about quite a lot. And they became clearer, and clearer, and clearer – even if, sometimes, future just made the present a lot more confusing.

It was only a matter of meeting each other through it; of understanding one’s place in life, no matter how hard it is to figure out; of letting experiences make bonds even stronger instead of the opposite; of impersonating an active role in it, and not letting future take an inevitable toll on you.

It was only a matter of time.

✎

Two months later, Kenma started referring to Kuroo as his boyfriend too - but only when Kuroo wasn't around. When Kuroo was around, he called him _Kuro_ or _Dumbass_ or didn't call him at all and opted for unimpressed stares instead.

Four months later, Kenma decided to start a YouTube channel for gaming - just to see what it would've felt like. He named it Kodzuken. Kuroo knew nothing about gaming, but supported him as best as he could regardless.

Five months later, Kodzuken reached a ridiculous amount of subscribers for a guy who didn't have much hope into his channel in the first place and for a guy with a personality like his. Kuroo insisted on celebrating by taking him out on a date. He looked happy, but also kind of bitter.

Seven months later, Kenma decided to get into game development, since his YouTube channel kind of paved his way for him. At the same time, Kenma and Kuroo had their first big argument. It went something like this:

A single, quiet, "Kenma. You're going to leave me behind, aren't you?" after a whole day of tensed silence.

Shaky breaths. Pointed stares.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just- you're- you're gonna leave the Company. I'm stuck there, you know. You'll move on."

"I'll move on from the Company, but not from you."

"That's the same thing."

"It's the same thing just because you told yourself it is."

"I can't just move on like you. I'm the fucking _CEO_ , Kenma."

"So what? You already decided I'm just going to leave you?"

"Aren't you?"

It hadn't been a loud argument. Not at all. Actually, it had been quiet, and tensed; and that was probably worse than loud altogether. Kenma was angry at Kuroo for believing that Kenma could ever be capable of building a future that wouldn't include Kuroo, as if Kuroo hadn't been a changing point in his life, as if Kuroo hadn't been something Kenma got so used to he wasn't ready to give up on them just yet. Kenma was angry at Kuroo for believing that he was bound to that Company for life, and that everything or everyone that wasn't, was, instead, bound to leave it and leave _him_. As if Kuroo ever belonged to that place.

Kenma didn't say that. Instead, with a stable voice and trembling fingers, he said "I'm sorting out my life and everything I want to do with it. You're just giving up on yours." Then, he got up from his couch and left.

Eight months later, Kenma and Kuroo made up - after nearly one month of barely talking, of leaving some space for each other, of abandoning their routine, of Kenma aching for Kuroo's touch but understanding how much the other needed to think. 

It went something like this:

Kenma was doing the night shift at his office, and he was currently taking a breath of fresh air on the balcony after two hours of intense work. He had his crossed arms on the railing and his chin on his wrists, and he was looking at the now dark sky. It was pitch black because of the numerous lampposts around the building blocking the stars’ view from human sight. Kenma remembered of that night, eight months earlier, and the feeling of mischief and carefreeness and Kuroo's hands on his hips, guiding his movements in a slow dance - and he shuddered.

When Kuroo joined him on the balcony, Kenma wasn't all that surprised. He didn't look up, nor move from his position - but he was now conscious of the warmth of Kuroo's body beside him, and the sound of his breathing.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Akaashi asked me what I'm planning to do in a couple of months. When I'll have to take my father's place."

"And what did you say?"

"Well," Kuroo paused, as if thinking about how to phrase his answer. Kenma waited patiently, calmly. "I talked about you, first of all. How you're planning to get into game development."

"Why?"

"Because I want to include you in my future, Kenma."

"And what is your future?" _What did you think about when I wasn’t there with you? Had this month been enough for you to figure it out?_

Kuroo chuckled. "That's the same question Akaashi asked me, you know." Kenma heard a deep sigh. "I've been thinking about that thing you said to me, the night we first met, here. You told me how I don’t look like I’m meant for this place. This Company. You told me that without even knowing my name, my status, and I found it so ironic at the time,” he chuckled. “I've been thinking about it a lot."

"I was saying the truth."

"I know you were." When Kuroo leaned on the railing too, Kenma finally looked away from the night sky and to his left, where Kuroo had lowered his face at Kenma's level. They stared at each other quietly. Kuroo had a fond look in his eyes and his lips were pulled up in a lazy grin. He looked content, peaceful.

(He looked like he didn't have a care in the world, but like he had too many at the same time).

Then, Kuroo said: "Hey."

"Hi."

"Wanna get out of here – but for good, this time?"

Kenma grinned back at him.

(Things changed; fortunately, the important ones – Kenma’s instinctive pull towards the other man, Kuroo’s striking spontaneity, the memory of their ridiculous first meeting, Kuroo’s gentle but firm touch and demeanor, Kenma’s tight feeling in his chest which made it so easy to acknowledge that the way he felt towards Kuroo was different than the way he did towards anyone else; and their future plans, their goals – did not.)

"Please."

✎

**Author's Note:**

> im not satisfied with the ending but i had to finish and publish it before i left it abandoned in my drafts sooo
> 
> also english isnt my first language so i apologize for eventual mistakes. i swear im trying my best


End file.
